Blame it on the Weatherman
by Serena Thorn
Summary: Sylaire. The rain was pouring, the road was wet, the car crashed. Sylar and Claire survived the wreckage, but can they survive each other alone in the middle of nowhere? Oneshot


**Spoilers:** Up to 3x05 though nothing major.  
**Disclaimer**; Heroes is not owned by me, but by Tim Kring. I'm simply borrowing these characters for non-profit entertainment.  
**A/N: **Yet another reason why arguing and driving don't mix. Hope you enjoy…  


* * *

"It's not like I asked for this assignment," Sylar grumbled from the passenger seat.

Claire didn't even glance over at him. He had at least agreed to let her drive so she knew better than to complain too loudly. Instead she only let out a heavy sigh and continued down the shimmering night road.

She was still angry that her father had put her in this situation, that he had in fact ordered it. He'd had his own assignments to deal with, never saying just what they were or why they were so important that _she_ had to be partnered with Sylar.

They both wondered if it wasn't some twisted form of punishment. A test perhaps even. A test of Claire's sanity and trust as well as Sylar's ability to control his urges. Then again he did already have Claire's power so it hardly seemed necessary for him to kill her outright.

"You know who you can thank for this arrangement," he continued.

"You said you wouldn't talk," Claire snapped.

"Do you really think your father would leave you alone with me if he thought I still couldn't be trusted?"

"Just because he may trust you doesn't mean I have to," she answered while keeping her eyes on as much of the road ahead of her as she could. The falling sheets of rain weren't helping but at least she had something aside from Sylar to focus on.

"How many times do I have to apologize for -"

"Your apologies mean nothing to me," she quickly interrupted.

That time Sylar sighed and turned his attention to his window. He had known this would be a long drive for them both but hadn't imagined it would be quite this tense.

Noah knew Claire wouldn't stop with her pursuits and decided that if he was going to have his daughter going after these criminals then she should have an idea of what she was up against. That was where Sylar had come in. He hardly trusted him but he knew Claire would need someone like him with her.

His powers would keep her safe, her anger would keep her focused and both were too stubborn to let their targets escape.

"Can you even see through the rain?" Sylar asked finally as she began to ever so slightly swerve.

"I can see fine."

In truth she couldn't but she wasn't about to admit it. Not when pulling over would put her and her partner further from their goal as well as forcing them to spend more time with one another.

"This doesn't have to be so unpleasant, Claire," he told her, trying to lessen the tension once more.

"You tried to kill me. More than once. Tell me how I'm supposed to enjoy this."

"I never meant to hurt you, you know that. I'm able to control my abilities more -"

"You think that makes up for what you did to me? You think because you put on a suit and tie that I'll trust you more than the night of Homecoming or that night at my house?" she fired, taking her attention away from the road for just a moment.

"You _can_ trust me, Claire. I won't hurt you. Even your father must know that. He was insistent about keeping me away from you until now."

"Yeah, this is what I get for wanting to be partnered with him," she scoffed. "You know the real reason you're here with me right now? Because he doesn't trust himself with you. How many times has he already threatened to kill you?"

"And yet he trusts me with you. I guess now you have to ask yourself something. Is he hoping that you'll kill me or is he hoping that I'll kill you? You know he doesn't see us for what we really are."

"He sees you as a killer."

"Exactly. And if I kill you, proving him right that I'm incapable of changing, then he'll have every excuse to finally kill me."

That time Claire stayed quiet. She refused to believe that her father would want her to be killed. Though privately she did have to admit that Sylar was at least partially right about her father seemingly looking for any reason to kill him now.

She also hated to admit that for this mission she likely would need his help. His powers at the very least should they run into trouble.

"Why is it so important to you to track these men down?"

"Because everyone who was on Level 5 deserved to be there."

"You'd never know you're not your father's daughter," he nearly muttered.

"What?" she snapped.

"I guess no forgiveness runs in the family."

"Why in hell should I forgive you? You're a killer who broke into my house and would've killed me without a second thought."

"I told you that night that I didn't want to kill you," he quickly reminded her.

"Saying you couldn't kill me if you wanted to doesn't count."

"Yes it does. Yes, I wanted your ability and I'm sorry I took it like I did but I never wanted to hurt you and I was never going to kill you."

"And you couldn't have gotten better control of your powers before you sliced my head open?" she demanded while speeding faster down the slick road. She could only think of getting closer to their destination as quickly as possible now, not about the rain she had virtually no visibility through.

A mistake she was about to realize the severity of.

"Claire, slow down. We'll make better time if the car isn't wrapped around a tree."

"Now you want to critique my driving?!" She was livid now. First her father had ordered her to do this so-called favor, then she had to hear Sylar's apologies that she believed to be completely hollow and now she had this indignity to suffer through.

"Seriously, Claire, slow down!" he tried as she took a sharp turn.

But he was too late, not that she was listening to him anyway. Despite her futile attempts at spinning the wheel and pumping the breaks they were quickly hydroplaning across the seemingly deserted road and through a guard rail, down a sharp hill until finally the car crashed hard into an embankment.

A crash that all too easily would have killed anyone without their shared special ability.

"I don't want to hear it," Claire stated through nearly clenched teeth at hearing Sylar's own pained groan a moment after her shredded bits of skin had begun to regenerate and her bones were still shifting back into place.

"You mean that I was right?" he asked with a twinge of bitterness while his own body continued to right itself.

She shot a quick glare in his direction before reaching into her pocket for her cell phone.. Sylar followed her lead within seconds only to come to the same realization she had. They were too far out to get even the barest of a signal.

Nearly a half an hour later after making the decision to walk in search of a phone they came to a run down looking motel, practically soaked to the bone from the still pouring rain.

"Need a room?" the stocky man behind the counter asked.

Shivering slightly, Claire replied, "Do you have a phone we could use?"

"Not one that works. Storm's knocked it out, happens every time."

"Guess we'll take that room then," Sylar told him as walked up to the counter beside Claire.

"You're not serious," she whispered to him, searching his emotionless face for any sign that he was kidding. Granted she wasn't looking forward to the long walk back to the wrecked car but she hardly enjoyed the idea of spending the night with him in a motel room.

Ignoring her, he reached for his wallet and began counting out the amount the manager told him it would be.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Sylar stated as Claire let out an angry huff while she took a seat on the bed.

"Maybe that I'm stuck in a motel room with a serial killer!" she nearly screamed.

His dark eyes flashed with anger at that. He could only imagine how many people there may have heard her. "That's not me anymore," he just short of growled.

"What are we supposed to do about your clothes? We can't show up tomorrow still covered in blood."

"What makes you so sure we'll be able to still get there tomorrow? Our car is totaled, we can't get hold of anyone -"

"Yet. You heard the manager, if the storm is over in the morning then we can call Dad and this whole nightmare will finally be over."

"I guess it's up to us to make the best of it while we're here then," he sighed.

"Make the best of it? We're sitting here covered in blood, losing hours from the road and likely from our target, how are we supposed to make the best of it?"

Shrugging off his suit jacket, Sylar stood and made his way towards the bathroom. "If the water isn't out we might have a chance of cleaning up. I'm going to start there."

Claire sat tensely on the side of the bed it appeared she would be taking. Her hands on her knees, her attention focused at the front door of the room.

For several moments she was lost in her thoughts of how differently this night should have gone and just as she began to wonder how much worse things could get she heard the bathroom door opening once more.

"Your turn," was all Sylar said as he walked back into the room, his dark hair slicked back, his shirt off and jacket draped over an arm.

"You really think that soap's going to get rid of these stains?" she asked, turning her head from him.

"I guess we'll find out when my shirt and jacket dry. But you are better off trying now while they're still some sort of fresh."

"Guess we get to thank the rain for one thing," she muttered before heading into the bathroom.

Her clothes had certainly seemed to be rendered bloodier than Sylar's she realized as she glanced to his dress shirt and tie draped over the shower rod. She assumed it was because she had been driving.

Ten minutes of hard scrubbing later she finally felt confident enough that Sylar might have been right.

"At least we don't have to worry about catching our death of cold," he called to her finally, trying to lighten the mood any way he could.

"How are you able to find this so funny?" she asked as she finally emerged, the lone motel towel around her chest to conceal the fact she had nothing but her bra on beneath.

"I just don't see why we have to fight the whole time. I get that you hate what I did to you, but I'm not that man anymore." He was tired and knew she was too. Fighting with her was only draining more of his energy.

"You still look the same to me," she shot back.

"Only because you're seeing what you want to see, Claire," he stated as his eyes finally met hers. "It makes you feel better to see me as a monster who will never change. You want to believe that your father is right about me because if he's right about me then you feel that he's been telling you the truth about everything all along when you know just how much of a lie that is."

"Shut up," she told him with a shake of her head. She refused to listen to him, not wanting to have to even silently admit how right he was.

"Face it, Claire. Your father knew the risks of leaving you alone with me and did it anyway. Maybe he didn't want to but he certainly didn't have to. What I said in the car hasn't changed. He doesn't believe that I can change, he doesn't believe that I've begun to and doesn't want you to see it either."

"Stop it!" she finally screamed, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

"You want me to shut up, Claire?" he asked as he stood once more and walked steadily closer. Bringing his voice down lower, he told her, "Then prove to me that I'm wrong. Tell me how he sees you any differently."

"I'm not a killer," she spat.

"Not yet," he replied with a slightly cocked eyebrow. "You know I'm right you just don't want to admit it to me. And that's fine, just don't lie to yourself, Claire."

She was still angry, but she wasn't fighting him now. There were no more excuses, no more lies and her silence was telling him all he needed to know. She wasn't afraid and she wasn't backing down. But at the same time his words were sinking in.

"We should probably get some sleep," he finally told her as he stepped back from her, knowing what he would likely do next if he didn't stop himself.

"Wait," she told him. "Why doesn't my dad see my humanity?"

It was a question that had been burning in her mind since he had first told her. She hadn't wanted to so much as pretend that she had been listening to him that night, but she knew she had shot that plan all to hell the moment she burst out of the car.

"Because you're not like him. He can't understand just how special you are and that scares him. And now that you can't feel pain it scares him even more because there's no telling just what you may do to yourself or someone else. I know that's also another reason he wanted to keep me from you, because he's afraid you'll become like I was."

"I could never be like you."

"It's not that far of a leap from being unable to feel physical pain to not being able to feel anything. You of all people should know that."

That got to her. More than she had anticipated.

"Did you even feel anything when we crashed tonight?" he asked, trying to find out just how far gone she already was.

"The impact. Even the glass cutting me, but it didn't hurt."

"What can you still feel?" he asked next, genuinely curious now.

"Anger. Resentment. Rage," she answered, focusing on him as she spoke.

He half-smiled, all too easily catching her meaning. Moving closer, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Not a bit," she answered.

"I want to try something, but I don't want to scare you with it."

"Now you care about scaring me?" she scoffed.

"Yes," he answered honestly.

Rolling her eyes, she told him, "Do whatever you want."

There was only one thing he could think to do. Tilting his head he leaned into her, careful to watch her as he did. If she was going to jump back or slap him he wanted to be ready.

Instead Claire could see what he was doing, but her own curiosity was getting the better of her. Seemingly frozen in place, unsure if it was natural or him using his powers on her, she found her own eyes closing as his lips brushed against hers.

"Can you feel this?" he asked, his lips just a breath away from her own.

"Yes," she sighed, suddenly finding herself both shocked and needful. It had been so long since she had felt anything this physical. Granted Sylar was hardly her first choice to make her feel anything but right then she wasn't willing to completely turn his twisted offer of help down.

"And this?" he softly asked just before finally kissing her, tenderly yet strongly.

That time she didn't reply in words, instead by pressing into him and eagerly returning the gesture.

Though it was Sylar who quickly broke it. He knew he had his answer and didn't want to be accused of trying to take more than she was willing to give.

"Why can I feel that and not pain?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"I don't know," he told her truthfully.

She was too stunned by the sudden rush of emotions and sensations coursing through her to stop herself from telling him to kiss her again. It was overwhelming and she couldn't tear herself from him.

"I don't blame you for wanting to feel something, Claire. But you know you don't want me." He knew if she meant it that he would be more than willing but he didn't want her like this.

"You're the only one who makes me feel anything anymore," she quietly admitted. Truthfully until now it had mostly been hatred and fear that he had filled her with but now there was something else. She couldn't know what exactly but she knew what she wanted to feel and that he was the only one who could make her feel what she needed.

"I shouldn't have kissed you," he stated with a shake of his head, now angry with himself for what he had done this time.

"You shouldn't have stopped," she corrected. Her reply shocked them both equally for a moment. But when Sylar saw her own fade and her expression return to needful with a twinge of hope in her eyes, he knew he didn't have it in him to deny her.

He didn't ask if she was sure, he didn't ask if this was how she wanted him. All he needed to know was what she had already told him. That she wanted to feel and he was the only one who could make her.

With a slow sweep of his hands, her towel was the first to hit the floor, her bra not far behind. Meanwhile her lips were pressed as hard as possible to his, her body already beginning to writhe within his hands while he trailed them over her bare sides and around to her back.

By then Claire's hands had ventured down to Sylar's stomach, lower still until she reached the snap of his suit pants.

It was only a moment more before he was kicking them off and breaking their kiss to run his lips down her neck, kissing and nipping and suckling at every bit of skin he found. Downwards still, his hands continued their own journey south to rid the petite blonde of her own few remaining garments.

When he stood again to revel in her arousal he could already hear the racing of her heart and feel the heat of her body radiating to his. With that he couldn't help but have just a little more fun by pushing her back to the bed.

Though it was seeing the suave, seductive smile tugging at his lips as he climbed atop her that proved to Claire he didn't mean her harm this time. He knew how wanton she could become and wanted to savor every bit of it.

The next morning came all too soon and while both were thankful to see Noah's team awaiting them with a new car just an hour after calling to tell him what had happened, they also knew this would be the beginning of several more secrets and lies.

They did as they were told and went through with their assignments, careful not to draw unnecessary attention to one another. But at the end of the day the time had come for them to once again decide if they could still work together.

"Claire," Sylar finally called, reaching out his hand to hers as she tried to rush passed him.

Feeling herself caught with her hand in his, she looked to him for what seemed like the first time that day. "My dad wants me to ride back with him. He seems to think you're the reason we crashed."

His head down for a moment, he almost laughed. "Of course he does."

"He's also been talking about permanent reassignment," she admitted.

He nodded. "I guess he doesn't trust me working with you after all. Maybe he's right not to after last night."

"No," she breathed. Pausing, trying to force the words from her mouth as she couldn't believe she was thankful to have heard them from her father, she finally managed to continue, "He's been talking about permanently assigning you and me as partners. At least since despite our detour we still managed to do what we were here for."

"With a word you could change his mind if you wanted to."

"I don't want to."

"Are you sure?"

At that she moved close and brought her voice down, nearly whispering, "As sure as I can still feel you."

"Not every night will be like last night, Claire. I can't even promise you a future like this."

"We can't die, Sylar. Well, not in a typical sense at least. All we have is time."

"Claire!" Noah called a moment later.

"See you tomorrow then?" Sylar asked her, still unsure if she was certain about this partnership.

Her hand still in his, she lifted his and kissed the edge of his palm. She wasn't ready to part ways with him yet or to go back to not feeling anything. "Yes," she finally told him.

As Claire soon climbed into her father's car, Sylar could only watch. He knew that she knew as well as he did that this was only the beginning.

The beginning of what though was yet to be determined.

The End


End file.
